


Aftercare

by SunflowerSupreme



Series: Punishment & BSDM Related [9]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Aftercare, M/M, Sleepy Cuddles, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:08:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26351701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunflowerSupreme/pseuds/SunflowerSupreme
Summary: Literally just aftercare because I am a sucker for softness and Geralt's bard is the most spoiled man on the continent.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Punishment & BSDM Related [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1624297
Comments: 16
Kudos: 175





	Aftercare

**Author's Note:**

> You can imagine this happening after pretty much any of the other fics in the Punishment series, I just wanted to write softness.

Geralt awoke to Dandelion dropping into his lap and burying his face in the Witcher’s shoulder. As always, his senses hadn’t alerted him to Dandelion entering the room, because even his subconscious knew the bard wasn’t a threat.

“Geralt, why-oh-why are you sleeping in a chair?”

“I thought you were singing,” he grumbled, avoiding answering the question. The truth was, he hadn’t actually thought about it, he’d been tired when he’d left Dandelion downstairs and he’d slumped onto the nearest surface for a quick nap. He had actually intended to go back downstairs to see some of Dandelion’s performance, but it seemed he’d missed his chance.

Dandelion snorted. “Well,” he said imperiously. “There’s a small problem wherein my arse hurts-”

“You deserved it, Dandelion, don’t act as if you didn’t.”

Dandelion nipped at Geralt’s neck with an annoyed noise. “I walked all the way here-” he began, but Geralt interrupted him.

“Two hours, Dandelion, you walked for barely two hours.” And Geralt had walked with him, because it was rather difficult to carry on a conversation when one person was riding and one was not.

“It was two very long hours, Geralt.”

Geralt’s hands found the waistband of Dandelion’s pants with practiced ease and slipped inside, fingers ghosting over his cheeks - still warm from the whipping - and drawing a sniffle from the poet.

He weighed his options. A part of him argued that Dandelion truly had deserved the whipping, but another part - that seemed to be larger - decided that the bard had been punished enough. “Pants off,” he murmured, pushing Dandelion off his lap.

As the troubadour struggled to kick off his boots and pants, Geralt grabbed a jar from his bag, unscrewed the cap, then sat on the bed holding out his arms in an invitation for Dandelion to join him.

They were nearly the same height - Dandelion barely a few inches shorter than the Witcher - but where Geralt had muscle from a lifetime of fighting, Dandelion was lean and lithe, a comfortable weight on the Witcher’s lap. “Spoiled,” Geralt grumbled, causing Dandelion to snicker.

Geralt sat against the headboard, his legs crossed, and Dandelion plopped into his lap again, wrapping his legs around Geralt’s waist. In that position, their faces were at the same height, and Geralt pressed his forehead against Dandelion’s for a moment, then drew him closer so that they could each rest their chin on the other’s shoulder.

Dipping his fingers in the salve, Geralt wrapped his arms around Dandelion, rubbing it into his reddened skin. Dandelion whined a bit, shifting uncomfortably in Geralt’s lap, grumbling about his poor, pitiful ass.

Geralt cupped his backside in his hands, squeezing the flesh and drawing a pathetic whine from Dandelion. “Geeraalt,” he said, stretching the Witcher’s name out to be thrice as long as it ought.

Geralt snorted.

“What a cruel old man,” muttered Dandelion. “Horrible.”

“It was your mouth that got you into this mess, bard,” said Geralt.

Dandelion responded by licking his neck, apparently too tired to do anything else.

Geralt shook his head, continuing to rub the salve into Dandelion’s heated flesh, each touch bringing a whimper from the bard. _Dramatic brat_ , the Witcher thought shaking his head slightly.

Once he would have assumed he’d pushed Dandelion too far, but he’d gotten to know the bard’s ways. Dandelion would throw a fit over anything, turning the slightest inconvenience into a major production. The one time Geralt had pushed too far, had shoved Dandelion over the edge where it had ceased to be part of their games anymore, the bard had been silent.

The Witcher still had nightmares about that.

So long as Dandelion was whining and putting up a fuss everything would be fine.

He pulled the bard firmly against his chest, so he could see past the curve of his spine to his reddened ass. As always, it was tempting to merely stare at the bard, or perhaps lay him on his stomach and strip him nude. Geralt could never quite get over his fascination with Dandelion’s humanness, the undertones of his skin. Even when healthy and happy Dandelion’s skin was tinged pink, while Geralt remained as pale as death.

But he was too tired to take as long as he would have liked.

Once he felt that he’d rubbed in enough salve Geralt continued to sit with Dandelion on his lap, rubbing his back lazily. Seeming to realize he’d gotten as much as he was going to get, Dandelion pushed himself back enough to sloppily kiss Geralt’s cheek.

Dandelion’s hand traced down Geralt’s chest, lazily pressing against his groin as though offering. The Witcher weighed his options for a moment. As enjoyable as it would have been to fuck Dandelion’s sore ass, they were both clearly exhausted. Even Dandelion, who had been lively and full of energy from his performance, had settled down while Geralt had been studying him.

Geralt ran his hands through Dandelion’s hair, shifting so that he could stretch out on his back. Following after him, Dandelion curled beside him, using Geralt as a pillow. 

"Goodnight Geralt." 

"Goodnight Dandelion." 

He was nearly asleep when Dandelion whined, "Geralt I'm cold." 

Rolling his eyes, Geralt pulled the blanket over them both. "Go to sleep, bard." 

**Author's Note:**

> \- adds "the one time Geralt accidentally pushed Dandelion too far" to my to-do list -
> 
> Edit: I wrote that fic, since so many of you wanted it!! [Over the Edge of the Precipice](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26432587/chapters/64397125) should have all your angsty needs.


End file.
